Wings of Anniera
by penspot
Summary: This is a series of prompt related drabbles and short stories based off of the Wingfeather Saga. I'm always looking for prompts to write about, so feel free to leave them in the review section. Rating for safety and may change.
1. Dance With Me

**A/N: Hello, everyone. As the title and summary say, this is a series of drabbles and short stories based on Andrew Peterson's Wingfeather Saga. Spoiler warning for those who haven't read all four books. To avoid any confusion, many of these bits are written from the assumption that the Wingfeathers were able to bring Janner back to life. This one is not.**

 **Important note: If you have any prompts you would like to see me write, feel free to leave them in the reviews.**

Prompt: Dancing

Dance With Me

It had been the first harvest of the season and the first Anniera had seen in little over nine years. It called for celebration! The bonfires had been lit, musicians had volunteered their talents and merriment commenced as all of Anniera gathered together to thank their Maker for His blessing.

The king of Annierra, Kalmar Wingfeather, watched his people from a table of the year's bounty. Many of the them at the moment were linking arms and participating in a jig as one large circle while others clapped along. He took note of each one. Bailey was a stocky man about a head taller than everyone else and His laughter almost shook the ground. Dora was spinning in circles with her new husband Lam while Olive, the little girl they had adopted, giggled and ran around them.

Armulyn the Bard and Kalmar's sister, Leeli, were going back and forth in a lively duet while the other musicians did their best to keep up. Uncle Artham had left a little while ago with his new bride, Arundelle, for a walk under the stars. Nia, and Sarah giggled over stories at a table. He knew they were about his brother.

His brother. Had it already been almost a whole year since they defeated Gnag- no, that wasn't his name. Not anymore. That man had been responsible for the destruction of Kal's home, the death of his father and grandparents, the abuse of his uncle, for crippling his sister, corrupting and twisting thousands of souls which led to... Janner. In his heart, Kal knew that he couldn't have healed everyone. He had been ready and willing, but a fang could not heal other fangs.

Kal clutched his cup tighter as his thoughts ran away with him. Yet even after all of that, the young king could still not bring himself to hate his kin. He knew the darkness that had enveloped Gna-Davion intimately. The selfish thoughts, the soulless actions. By the end of it, Madia Wingfeather's son had been redeemed. Or at least they had hoped so. So had everyone else who had sung the song twice. It was supposed to be a happy ending.

"King Kalmar?"

Kal looked up into a beautiful pair of eyes. Eyes that used to be wild and inhumanly yellow and haunted his soul. They were still a little wild, but they were human and danced in the firelight with concern.

"Are you alright? You had such a tense look about you."

Running a hand through his hair, Kal sighed. "I'm fine Galya."

"You do know I don't believe you for a second, right?"

Kal shot her a dry look. "Is that how you speak to your king?"

Galya smirked, planting herself down on the edge of the table where he was standing. "Forgive me, sire," she teased, "but the reverence is a little hard to conjure when your face is covered in jelly."

With a grumble, Kalmar wiped his sleeve across his cheek and returned to watching the merrymakers. There was a moment of silence between the two when Galya spoke up again, "Do you dance, my king?"

"What?"

"Do you dance?"

"No."

Galya hopped down from her perch and stepped in front of Kal. "Never?"

"I-"

"Your sisters tell me differently. Leeli says that you used to dance all the time at- what was it- the Dragonsday Festival. Sara agrees."

"Why do you want to know so badly if I can dance?" Kal frowned.

"Because I want to dance with you," she said plainly, "but I can't do that when you are stuck in your own sulkery." She stepped out from in front of his face and inched up beside him, head resting against his shoulder. "It's not your fault."

"I think it is," the young king answered. "I keep thinking if I had only not sung the song in the first place, if I had just listened to him, he would still be here."

"But I wouldn't, and neither would most of your subjects here. We all owe you and your brother a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid."

"We don't know that. If I hadn't become a fang, perhaps I could have been the seed."

"And then I would never have gotten to know you," Galya argued, looking up at Kalmar and grabbing his face. Turning his head to look at hers, she pressed her forehead against his. "Dance with me."

"Galya-"

"Please."

The music died down to something slow and sweet. Leeli had taken the lead on this one and played a song that Kalmar hadn't heard since the passing of his father. It was a call to all who had been lost in the Great War. All the pain and hurt of ten years flowed through the Song Maiden's whistleharp like a conduit to the Maker.

"In death my love, I loved you best," he whispered. With a sniff and blinking the tears away, Kalmar focused on Galya with a small, sad smile. "Okay."

She rubbed her own tears away and returned the smile. Leading her king away from the table, the two held hands and gently swayed back and forth. Galya led with a graceful confidence. Occasionally she would raise their arms and twirl underneath them before coming back to facing Kalmar and swaying again, or moving their arms to the side and taking a step to one side and then the other. It was beautiful in its simplicity and Kalmar could feel his soul become lighter. Distantly he wished Janner could look at him, and Galya, and everything they had achieved because of the Throne Warden's sacrifice, and write down how life had continued and that Janner was the reason Kalmar could once again dance.


	2. Unrequited Love

Prompt: A poem on unrequited love

 **Bonnie Lass**

 _From Bleeding Heart: Poems and Cries of Another Kind,  
by Drewby Gallantsmoore* (publisher and date unknown)_

Bonnie Lass has done once more  
Gone and ripped my heart out  
With sweet caress; from my breast  
She stole it evermore

Bonnie Lass has gone and passed  
My love cries e'er deftly  
Instead to swoon, moon, and croon  
O'er a sailor at mast

Bonnie Lass, it grieves my heart  
To watch you pine for him  
Yet I remain true for you  
Till love won't keep us part

* _Drewby Gallantsmoore was a man with notable social problems. Though details of his death are unknown, literary tradition believes he died of a broken heart. Or a toothy cow. Either way, it wasn't a nice way to go._


	3. Eye Contact

**Eye Contact**

The first time their eyes met was during a moment of respite from the overbearing world of Fangs around them. The Dragon Day Festival provided a breath of fresh air and it was in that breath Janner saw her. She was small, but her eyes were round with awe at the display of the sea dragons. Even in the fading light of the day, they were bright, and blue, and seemed to shine with the joy of the day. It was a brief meeting, but those eyes stayed with Janner.

"She's funny. I need to tell you this joke she told me," said Tink from his bunk.

Janner sighed with a slight smile. "Funny and pretty."

"Oooh! Janner thinks Sara Cobbler's pretty!" Tink snorted and sang, "Janner's in lo-ove!"

"Shut it, Tink!"

* * *

The second time their eyes met, Janner was being led through a fiery nightmare. Everything and everyone was covered in layers of soot and grime and all color but red and black seemed to fade from the world. All but two bright pools of blue that struck the young Throne Warden's memory.

Sara Cobbler. A name he whispered in the dark confines of the box. A name that, like she had done for him in the factory, kept his mind from going down roads it shouldn't. A name that brought back some semblance of hope in his despair.

She was a brave one, that Sara Cobbler. It broke his heart to watch those brave eyes disappear behind the portcullis, filled with fear and tears. As he rode into the night, freedom in his grasp, those bright, blue eyes haunted him all the way to Dugtown.

* * *

The third time their eyes met, Janner almost thought he was seeing things. The last thing he could remember feeling was complete contentment. A deep peace that filled every fiber of his spirit. That was all he could remember after jumping onto the Fane of Fire stone. Still holding strong, that peace enveloped him as he was embraced by his loved ones. And leading the way was a teary-eyed girl who sniffled her relief back.

"I thought I would never see you again," she whispered, burying her face into his shoulder. Absorbing it all, Janner squeezed her tighter.

"It's good to see you too," he whispered.

And they would go on together for as long as the Maker allowed.

* * *

The last time their eyes met, Sara lay weakly in bed; pillows guarding every side. With a cane in one hand and hers in his other, Janner watched over her from the edge of their bed.

"My courageous star," he whispered lovingly, stroking her hand. "So brave. So strong."

"So… tired," she answered with a waning smile.

"Then rest, Love. It's okay."

"Janner… I love… you…"

Sara's eyes slid closed, her breath hitching a little before escaping in one long exhale. He brushed a silver hair from her ashen face and brought her hand up to gently kiss it before sobbing silently. Huddling close, their children and grandchildren shared tears and love as they whispered their goodbyes.

Janner, in the midst of it all, envisioned those bright blue eyes that followed him in life and the beautiful girl they belonged to who that made life worth living. He would miss them, until the next time.


	4. Burried

**Buried**

She was beginning to realise how far down in her memory she'd buried those days. Sunny days where her only anxieties were what to plan for supper for the visiting cousins from Ban Rona, not fangs slithering into her house at night. Rainy days where she and her husband could curl up with books and joke about farmer Torwood and his prize, giant totatoes. Days where she could dance, and laugh, and see...

Esben.

Nya fell back against the counter. Checking to make sure no one was watching, she berated herself as she slid to the floor, arms wrapped around her knees. The mere thought of him sent her world spinning. There were no more happy days like in Annierra. Sure she smiled and her children filled her with joy, but something was missing. Her home was missing. Her life... Her husband... all gone.

And she was empty.

"Mama?"

A shadow hung over Nya. Looking up, she saw his face. Esben was burried in the features of her son. The shape of his jaw, the color of his hair; even the gentleness in his voice. Oh, how her heart ached.

"Mama, you're crying." Janner, barely six, knelt beside his mother.

Nya wiped her cheeks veneath her eyes. Crying? How had she not realised?

"What's wrong? You hurt?" he asked.

She stretched an arm out and wrapped it around his shoulders, easing him into a hug. Resting her chin atop her son's head, Nya breathed out a sigh, not of relief or content, but weary and resigned. "I'm alright, Sweetheart." She turned him to look at her. Esben was still there, but this was Janner, her son who needed her now. The ache faded.

Kissing his forehead, Nya cleared her broken voice and spoke. "How about you find your brother and sister and we can get ready for lunch."

Janner nodded his head with his gap-toothed grin. "Okay!" he agreed, enthusiastically and then he was gone. Nya found her legs again and straightened. There was a reason she had burried those old days deep. To focus on what was no more would only bring her to her knees. Her family needed her to be strong and stay on her feet. Nya Igiby Wingfeather could not afford to be broken by the past. For her family's safety, she needed to be in the present. And so they stayed burried.


	5. Outside the Window

A/N: A little peek at our resident Throne Warden and his writing skills.

Prompt: _A scene outside your window_

 **Outside the Window**

It was days like these that Janner truly appreciated the Maker's handiwork. Summer was fading into Autumn and the young burch tree outside his study window was just beginning to face its first change in Annieran soil. With a scritch of his pen, Janner noted that some of the leaves were already tinged red. Just the inspiration the Throne Warden needed to wrestle out the last of his latest poem.

 _Tinged in hues of yellow and red,_  
 _So the time to change has spread;_  
 _Spread aloft with subtle ease,_  
 _As autumn finds its home in trees;_

 _And so we continue on._

It was coming to a time where THAGS didn't have to be forced on Janner anymore. Writing had always been a release for him and a way to review everything he had gone through. Lately his writings had become like a creative calendar. Rare were the days that overlapped and seemed to repeat themselves since his new home was full of surprises. Each day had something new to reveal, and Janner couldn't wait to discover it all.


	6. Monster

**A/N: Thanks to Bob for the review. And to lindenrosetps since I don't remember thanking you before. Sorry about that. Your feedback means so much to me.**

Prompt: _It made him feel alone in this new house._

Monster

The sound of laughter drifted up from the house below, making him feel very alone in this new place. Kalmar huddled into himself, curling his tail around his feet. He had excused himself from dinner, claiming to be tired from Durgan training. Janner had given him a suspicious look, but his mother agreed sympathetically. Careful not to brush anyone as he passed through the cozy dining room, Kal made it up to his room and collapsed on the bed, but no sleep came.

Instead there was hunger. Only hunger. And it drove him crazy. Ugh! His stomach was turning on him! Why?! He just ate! Perhaps not as much as he should have. Definitely not as much as he used to. It wasn't for lack of trying. Totato stew was a nostalgic dish, offering memories of more carefree days. Days playing zibzy and hunting frogs. Days before being hunted, before fur, and claws, and... He had tried so hard to eat, but he couldn't bring himself to even touch his mother's cooking.

As his stomach ached, an itch to run settled in his lower back; working up to his shoulders and stretching down to his legs. The room began to close in on him. Tighter, and tighter, and tighter-

"Kal?"

Kal rolled in his bunk, not daring to face his brother. With his heightened senses, he should have noticed Janner down at the stairs. He must have been truly distressed to not have even noticed the scent of his brother.

Something dangerous was happening. He could feel it. Why did he have to walk in now? Careful to remain still, Kal focused on his breathing. In… out… in… out…

Janner remained quiet and Kal could hear him shuffle about the room before settling into the bed below him. Making sure his brother was sound asleep, Kal snuck down the bed and over to the window. He had to get out. He had to run. He had to… had to...

Hunt.

Furry paws met snow with little difference. All Kal knew was that he was free. Something was set loose inside him and the wolf swept Kal away to sensation. It led him to a small wood and Kal was lost to smell and sound. Hops! Croaks! Grunts! So many animals! So much prey!

When Kal came back to himself, he stared at his claws in dismay. There was so much blood. Feather scattered atop the unsettled snow where a leftover carcass lay mutilated beside him. Flopping over, Kal wretched. Before being fanged, Kal had seen the older men hunt back in Glipwood. He had watched Podo pluck and clean hens for Nina to cook, and had even helped take care of the feathers.

This was nothing like that. He could vaguely remember the thrill of the hunt; chasing hens and nipping at their tails before pouncing. Kal shook his head furiously, trying his best to scrub the blood out of his fur with the snow.

"I… am Kalmar Wingfeather," he breathed shakily, "son of Esben, King of Anniera…" Tears blurred his vision as his scrubbing grew more fierce. "I may have been fanged, but I am _not_ an animal. I am _not_ a…"

He slowed to a stop, studying his claws and fully taking in the mess around him. He noticed something that unsettled him worse than he was. The hunger was gone. Satiated. Pacified.

"... a monster."


	7. Bruised

Prompt: I'd _love to see a one-shot with Gammon and Maraly post tWatWK- xComeAlongPond_

Bruised

When he lifted his head, she barely recognized him for the bruises. It was supposed to have been an easy job. A rogue gang of Stranders had been on the loose for the last week. They weren't subtle. After their tunnel system in Dugtown had been flushed out and filled in, Stranders were no longer able to get wherever they needed in the blink of a local's eye. That left only the shadows and back alleys for them to smuggle in and out of town.

After a few robberies and complaints from citizens, the Florid Sword and Dagger were on the scent. It had only taken a few days to figure out the bandits' routine and eventually they had them cornered... or at least they thought.

Before either hero knew what was happening, a hole in the wall to the left opened and the Stranders were streaming inside. Gammon went after them from behind while Maraly ran around to catch them at the front of the building.

No one came out.

Dagger burst through the door, blade in hand but only found a family sitting down for dinner. While the father threatened, and the mother blubbered, Maraly pushed her way towards the back of the building. There was nothing. No holes. No hollows. No sign of Florid Sword.

Anxiety gnawed at her stomach as she sprinted out the way she came and went back to the hole in the wall. It was gone, at least to an untrained eye. Using the pommel of her dagger, she tapped against the wooden wall, searching. For a while, she was only met with the dull thuds of solid woodwork.

 _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thunk!_

There it was! Maraly kicked as hard as she could, scattering the splintered boards forward to form a hole big enough to crawl through. The tunnel system didn't last for very long, but it was long enough for Maraly to wonder how for the love of the Maker did this one never get caught and filled in? She was sure they had disrupted every decent Strander tunnel.

Her frustrations and quickly rising panic were enough to keep her mind busy as her feet carried her through the tunnel and out again, winding up in what looked to be the other side of town. She could see footprints now, but there were so many in the disturbed mud that she didn't know which ones were Gammon's or not.

If it wasn't for the faint groan, she'd have never known. Following the sound, Maraly was led to a broken down shed the Fangs used to use for storing sharp equipment. That's where she found her father, broken, bruised, and tied up; a remarkable feat to be sure. The Florid Sword is never so easily mishandled, but those stranders had pulled off what not even an army of fangs could do.

Maraly felt rage pool in the pit of her stomach as she sliced the ropes that bound him.

"What did they do to you?" she demanded, removing the grimy rag buried deep in his mouth. Gammon gagged a little and coughed before giving a silly grimace.

"Hey, Dagger."

"What. Did. They. Do. To. You?" she held both his cheeks in her hand, annunciating each word. She didn't want him brushing this off. She didn't want him to hide what he was feeling just to spare her. She was his partner. The Florid Sword and Dagger. She didn't want him to treat her like a child.

Gammon looked at her sadly as she felt the run of emotions cross her face and heart. Relief, anger, malice, sadness, fear… she experienced them all in a moment before finally breaking down into sobs. She was a child. It was moments like this that she remembered Gammon's occasional regret for not just taking Maraly back to the farm so she could have a peaceful childhood. But that wasn't them. Both had a longing for adventure and a call to justice that they couldn't easily abandon. This was their life and bad things happened in life.

She felt arms wrap around her and burry her in a tight hug. She could hear him sigh with pain, but also with remorse.

"I wasn't paying attention, and there were more hiding out that jumped me from behind. I'm sorry, Maraly. For worrying you."

She smacked him, glaring up at her father through watery eyes. "You half-baked dirt clod. You ain't supposed to let 'em get behind you."

Gammon grimaced in pain, but that quickly built into a stronger grin and then a chuckle. "You're right. You're right." He rolled his shoulders and held out his hand. "Mind helping me up?"

Maraly sniffed and wiped her eyed with her scarf before standing and pulling him up with her. Gammon ruffled her hair affectionately- something she knew that he knew she hated- but then paused.

"When did you get so tall?" he pondered aloud.

"I've always been this tall," she answered stubbornly. "You've just been too daft to notice."

"I have, huh? Well, how shameful of me."

Maraly helped him walk to the door of the shed until he could lean on the doorpost. "So much for finding those stranders tonight," he muttered, looking at the faint light of dawn on the horizon.

"We'll fin em tomorrow," Maraly said. "And this time I'll be leading, right? Those idiots won't know what's comin'."

Gammin laughed out loud patted her back. "Sure. But first let's go home and get some rest. We could both go for a hot bath."

"Speak for yourself."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks to xComeAlongPond for the prompt. It took a while to figure out what to write, but it's here. Everyone who is reading this, feel free to send a prompt for me to write about in the review box.**


	8. I Have a Question

A/N: Requested by a Guest account- "Can you do a series of Thorn and Leeli one-shots as they grow up (when leeli's 13, 15, 17, 19, etc)? Maybe ending in their marriage?"

It's not necessarily ending in their marriage, but it ends sweetly. Nothing but fluff.

* * *

 **I Have a Question**

 _Oy, I wouldn't worry about that," Biggin said. "He aims to marry her as soon as their age befits. He loves her real bad._

-The Throne Warden and the Wolf King, p. 497

(Leeli 13; Thorn 15)

"So I've got a question," Thorn grunted, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Leeli cast him a side glance before returning to her work. "What's that?"

"Do you ever plan on gettin' married?"

That made Leeli stop. She set down the tools for her houndrick and grabbed the greasy cloth she had set aside to wipe her dirty hands off.

"Are you asking?"

Thorn blushed and sank further into his pockets. "No," he answered indignantly, which let the light out of Leeli's heart for a moment before he added in a mutter, "Not yet anyways."

"Well we are a little young," Leeli chuckled.

Thorn sighed, leaning against the wall of the houndry. "Yeah…"

Leeli started packing up her tools, her stomach gurgling for her to go get something to eat. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Are you getting hungry?"

Thorn paused for a moment and nodded. "Yeah, I could go for some sup. Pa said he and Kelvey were going to be busy working with the new litter, so they ain't eating till later."

"I was thinking of eating out tonight. Olumphia and Guild Master Clout were having a date night and I didn't want to impede."

"There's a new tavern at the docks. Supposed to be really good."

"Really, really good?" Leeli smirked.

With a roll of his eyes, Thorn grabbed his cap and coat and held the door for her. "After you Miss Song Maiden."

"Why thank you, kind sir," she teased, booping his nose on the way out.

* * *

(Leeli 16; Thorn 17 going on 18)

He hadn't seen her in two years. Sure, they had written but it wasn't the same as seeing her. Then one fateful day, a royal summons from Anniera was in the mail; an invitation to Leeli's sixteenth birthday. Sixteen was a special milestone in Hollish tradition and Thorn was sure the queen mother was going to pull out all the stops for her youngest daughter. He hadn't been able to attend Sara's but had heard the party was spectacular.

So, there he was, on a ship docked in Lorryshire preparing to take off towards the Castle Rysen. In an hour he'd be seeing his best friend again. That was a thought that sent a warm wave through to his toes. Had she changed much? He remembered when his cousin Bertie had gone on a trip long before the War for the Hollows and when she had come back six months later, he remembered Kelvey and him snickering at all the lovestruck boys that clamored in her wake.

Thorn grabbed the last of the dirty laundry strewn about his bunk and stuffed it into his bag. He would need to wash most of his bag's contents before tomorrow, he realized with a grimace. Climbing up the ladder and onto the deck, Thorn was enveloped in his own thoughts up until his foot hit the last step down to the dock and he froze.

There she was.

Leeli leaned forward against the ridge of her houndrick, a team of dogs sitting patiently for her order. She hadn't changed all that much. Maybe she was a little taller? Her hair was still as light and feathery as he last saw her, her smile kind and mischievous, bright eyes watching him expectantly.

"Glad to see you made it in one peace," she teased as she approached.

Thorn smiled and took her hand, drawing it to himself as he brushed a kiss against her knuckles. He looked up and grinned, "A pleasure to see you again, Your Highness."

Leeli drew back slowly, her face unreadable before settling on jesting curiosity. "My mother didn't force you to take etiquette lessons behind my back, did she?" she asked, poking him in the shoulder. Thorn blushed and mussed the back of his hair.

"Um… she might've mentioned somethin' last I saw her."

The princess beckoned to the back of the houndrick saying, "Hop on and you can tell me all about it."

The next night Thorn dressed in the best clothes he had: a light blue tunic and dark vest with trousers and polished boots. He had saved up for months to buy them and, looking in the mirror that came with his guest room, they were worth every coin.

He was headed towards the great hall where all the reverie would be when he passed Janner Wingfeather in the corridor.

"Thorn!" Janner called. Thorn smiled and clasped hands with him.

"Throne Warden."

"Leeli sent me to fetch you. She was worried you might have gotten lost," Janner smirked, earning an embarrassed chuckle from Thorn.

"I helped build the place," Thorn muttered, wishing he had pockets he could stick his hands into, but what technically were pockets in his trousers weren't big enough to be comfortable. Janner patted his shoulder, amusedly, and motioned his head towards the large door.

"Shall we offer the Song Maiden the best birthday wishes?" he suggested. Thorn nodded and followed Janner into the great hall. There were so many people from all walks of life gathered. Headmistress Olumphia and her husband Guild master Clout swayed back and forth to the music. Artham Wingfeather and his wife were dancing in a circle with their son. The latest Keeper of the Hollows Bjorinn was speaking with the queen mother and High King Kalmar at the head table. There were people he knew from Rysentown, Lorecrave, and all over the isle not to mention guests from the Hollows and Skree. All of them gathered to show their love and appreciation for the hero of Ban Rona, Leeli Wingfeather.

"She's over there," Janner pointed. Thorn followed his finger to the dais where the music was and found her, to his utter dismay, just as beautiful and charming as always and surrounded by a gaggle of boys vying for her attention.

Thorn suddenly grew hesitant. "I… I can wait."

"Hey, I never knew Thorn O'Salley to be the shy type," prodded Janner.

"She looks busy."

In all honesty, something clenched at his gut. Something dark and despairing. He was Leeli's best friend, and had even promised to marry the girl but… why would she be interested in a dirty hound hand? Janner must have seen something from Thorn because the Throne Warden's amusement was replaced with sympathy and encouragement.

"She was really looking forward to seeing you. Come on, I'll go with you."

Janner tugged at Thorn's sleeve and the two young men waded through the crowd until they made it to Leeli. Upon seeing Thorn, her eyes lit up and she brushed passed the others to meet him.

"Thorn!" she beamed and took his hand. "You're just in time. Come dance with me!"

Before he could answer yes or no, Leeli was dragging him right into the middle of all the other dancing couples and the two began to spin around casually.

"You look wonderful," he complimented. Leeli always looked wonderful, but tonight, clad in her best dress with her hair down and the merriment of the party and those she loved surrounding her made her glow in the lamplight.

"Thanks. You do too. Is this new?" she nodded to his getup.

"Uh… yeah." They continued to dance quietly to the supreme frustration of Thorn O'Salley. This was Leeli! Why was he finding it so hard to talk to the most beautiful, cheerful, talented… selfless… wonderful girl… in the-

"Thorn, are you feeling okay?"

Thorn snapped himself out of his daze and refocused on his dance partner.

"I… I uh… I've got a question to ask you."

"What's wrong?" she asked concerned. Looking up at him with her big eyes, Thorn knew with her even bigger heart that she would cross Aerwiar and back to help him.

"Do you ever plan on gettin' married?"

She slowed a step but continued leading in a breath. Her concern dissolved and was replaced with a smirk.

"Are you asking?"

"No, not yet."

"Then why ask?"

"Cuz I- I saw you with all those other boys and I… I guess…"

Leeli giggled. "Why Thorn O'Salley, you weren't jealous were you?"

Thorn flushed red and he could feel his palms start to sweat. He wanted to sink into the floor, Maker help him.

"Maybe a lil-"

Leeli leaned her head against his shoulder as they twirled to the close of the song. "I wouldn't worry too much, Thorn. I'm still waiting for the day when you ask me proper."

Without realizing it, Thorn let out a sigh of relief and smiled. "Sure thing Miss Song Maiden."

* * *

(Leeli 19; Thorn 21)

The day was a complete wreck. Everything that could have gone wrong had and Thorn was beside himself, begging for the Maker to end his misery.

He had planned this day for a week, years if you counted the times he daydreamed about it. First, he and Leeli were going to have a picnic brunch in the gardens, then a houndrick race across the island where Thorn would lead her to her favorite spot at Harmonious Point where the sea would echo against the overhang of the cliffs in what sounded like music. He would take her hand, kiss it and hold out a ring he commissioned.

Nia, Kalmar, and Janner had all been overjoyed when Thorn asked them for permission to marry Leeli. Nia requested Leeli's favorites from the kitchen for the brunch, Kalmar fixed Leeli's houndrick so that it would go slower than normal- Leeli could beat Thorn in a heartbeat otherwise- and Janner had made sure the Leeli was none aware of what was transpiring that day.

The late morning was going well as they both walked into the gardens… until Farkle over turned the basket, scattering all their food into the dirt. Leeli and Thorn picked up as best they could and headed back to the palace. Leeli offered sandwiches, but Thorn insisted that he would treat her to lunch in town.

But when they were riding their houndricks, a connection bolt broke off from the frame and sent Thorn sprawling into the grass. Thorn groaned and blinked the stars back, looking up at a worried Leeli.

"Are you okay, Thorn?"

Letting his head fall back to the ground, Thorn groaned and covered his eyes. "No! Everything is going wrong!"

"We've been through worse happenstance," Leeli comforted, running her fingers through his dark hair. "Remember when you gave me that bouquet of flowers only to be chased off by that bee hiding among them?"

"That was embarrassing."

"Or what about the time we tried climbing that tree the ambassador from Skree brought over only to have me fall and break my arm?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. It was my idea we climb that tree."

"And I agreed, even though Mama told us not to. We always work together and whether good or ill things happen, we support each other. You know I love you, Thorn."

Thorn sat up on his elbows and grimaced. "And I love you, Leeli, but today was special."

Leeli's brow furrowed in confusion. "What's so special about today?"

Thorn sighed and dug into his pocket, but nothing was there. Panic welled in his chest. Jumping to his feet, Thorn dug deep in his pockets, scavenged the ground and looked around the broken remains of his houndrick. Nothing. The ring was gone.

"No! No! No!"

"Thorn?"

"The ring!"

Leeli's eyes widened. "Ring? What ring?"

Thorn stopped and slumped to the ground, burying his face in his knees. "I was going to ask you something today."

He almost heard the gears click into place in his sweetheart's mind when he heard her giggle and felt her sit next to him.

"And what question was that?"

"You know," he groaned.

"I do? Well how about you refresh my memory."

Thorn looked up to see Leeli looking back at him with a playful grin, eyes dancing with knowing mischief. Maker, was she beautiful.

"Do you ever plan on gettin' married?" he asked with a small smile.

Leeli leaned a little closer. "Are you asking?"

Their noses were brushing. Thorn glanced down to her smiling lips and back to her dazzling eyes. He had wanted this for so long. Ever since they were kids he knew Leeli was the one for him, and she reciprocated every ounce of affection he carried for her.

"Yes."

"Then yes."

Something lit up within Thorn and he didn't think he could smile any bigger. Cupping her cheeks with his hands, he brushed his lips across hers, soft, sweet, and gentle. They both melted into each other's embrace, staying there as time seemed to still and the day suddenly became right. Except…

"I still don't have a ring for you," he mumbled. Leeli drew back and tapped her chin thoughtfully, gazing over at the rigging. He saw an idea light up her face and soon she was digging around the houndrick and back to sitting next to him with something shiny in her hand.

"I found it."

Thorn frowned and looked at what was in her outstretched hand. It was a thin washer ring.

"That's… not it sweetheart."

Leeli rolled her eyes and placed it on her finger. Finding it too big she switched it to her middle finger, and then her pointed, and then her thumb where the ring fit securely. "There, that's better."

"Leeli-"

She held out her hand, brandishing the washer ring. "I know it's not what you planned, but I can't think of a better engagement ring. I love it."

Thorn wanted to protest, but relaxed and chuckled. He knew she wouldn't be swayed otherwise. "Then it's perfect," he agreed. "A perfect ring for my Song Maiden."


End file.
